Never Lost
by Phoenix Dayze
Summary: Sephiroth was dimly aware of Zack’s hands pressing down on his wound. His vision zeroed in on two violet stars, gleaming like a hope and a dream, stars laden with aching sorrow and tinged with fear. Zack’s comforting voice. Don't go, Seph... AU NC CD
1. Angel of Fate

Never Lost  
By: Phoenix Dayze

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. Please don't hurt me.

Sephiroth paced the length of the tent. He hated to admit to being worried, but he was. Zack had recently been promoted to SOLDIER First Class--just as Sephiroth had known that he would be--and his first mission hadn't been the simple task that Sephiroth had hoped for. Of all the places that Zack could have been sent, it had to be Wutai. They had been on the brink of war with the vile country for years, but it had to be now that things began to fall apart. It had to be now that ShinRa was forced to send in an infantry to try and keep the brunt of the battle from spilling out into the surrounding cities. It had never really bothered Sephiroth that he didn't sign the mission release forms before, glad that he didn't have to choose who it was to send out to death's door, until now. Wutai was a vicious, contemptible place, and more than one good SOLDIER had fallen here in past negotiations. Sephiroth knew that Zack was more than capable of taking care of himself, he'd proved that a thousand times over, but the headstrong young man was the only thing Sephiroth had ever had that even vaguely resembled a friendship, and he was loath to see it die.

Ever since that altercation in his office two years ago, he and Zack had forged a solid, albeit somewhat unconventional relationship. Sephiroth had reluctantly let go of his dreams of possession, of using the man for his own pleasures, although the lust was still there, and Zack always gave him the respect that Sephiroth had earned in his eyes, becoming an irreplaceable confidant. They had learned how to laugh together, how to read the other's body language so that they knew the other almost as well as theirself, and there was a still, uncensored comfort in the other's presence.

It had been nearly four months since Sephiroth had even seen Zack. Sephiroth was the General, and was always needed ten places at once. Since the war had started, he'd spent most of his time traveling back and forth, from post to post, giving speeches and rallying troops, not at all a valuable use of his skill. It kept him away from the fighting, away from the danger, but it also kept him away from his men, and the victory that he knew they could achieve together.

Finally back here among Zack's unit, Sephiroth had ordered the men to alert him the instant that Zack set foot on the grounds. He needed to speak with Zack, the man was in second-in-command now, but more than that, he just wanted to see, with his own eyes, that Zack was safe. Sephiroth cared more for Zack than he would admit, even to himself, perhaps too much. The burden of such attachment, in times like these, could only be a weakness. But he hid it well. He doubted that even Zack knew the truth of these particular feelings, or the strength of them.

Sephiroth abandoned his thoughts as a loud, familiar voice bled through the camp. He smiled as the voice neared, letting out a heavy breath. Zack was safe. For now.

The flap of the tent was carelessly flung aside and Zack strolled in, as full of himself as ever, his arm slung a little too affably around the neck of a very pretty female nurse. He wavered slightly on his feet, and the smile on his face said all there was to say about his current situation. Sephiroth's heart clenched painfully. Somehow, death and dismemberment by Wutai warriors seemed less of a danger in the light of very definite seduction by nurses with more curves than any man should find appealing. He knew that Zack was only sixteen, that amidst the true possibility of death, Zack deserved to experience any form of pleasure he desired, human intimacy at the top of that list. And being that he'd never put any kind of claim on Zack, never even expressed interest in the man, Sephiroth shouldn't be surprised that Zack was testing the waters when he had the chance. But that didn't stop it from hurting any less. Sephiroth cleared his throat. "Is this a bad time, Lieutenant?"

Zack whirled around at the sound of the dark voice, the grin fading from his face so fast it made Sephiroth cringe. Zack stared at his commanding officer, his arm dropping from the nurse's shoulder. "Seph, what are you doing here?"

Sephiroth licked his lips. The simple, mundane way that Zack spoke was like a knife in his side. He had thought, that after all this time, his friend would be at least a little glad to see him. He gave Zack a wry, mirthless smile. "There's a war on, Zackary. Or haven't you noticed?" He looked pointedly at the nurse who was wisely trying to make herself scarce, then back at Zack. "This is where I'm needed, for the moment."

Zack ran a hand through his hair, a heavy sigh on his lips. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just…surprised is all." He gave Sephiroth a quick once-over. "You look tired."

"Thank you, Zack," Sephiroth all but spat, "your astute concern is as touching as ever."

Zack frowned; hurt flashing in his eyes. "Seph…I…"

Nightmarish screams pierced the camp, followed by the crushing sound of bombs, gunfire, and the unmistakable clash of steel. Sephiroth's sword appeared in a flash of sliver, and he exited the tent, no longer the betrayed friend, but the General. Zack followed, close on his heels, his buster sword brandished high.

It happened so quickly, that neither of them even noticed that it had happened at all, until Sephiroth began spurting blood, and his hand wound instinctively around his stomach. Sephiroth stilled, paling, as his world wavered, a liquid reality. Zack's arm caught him as he fell, an anchor amidst the carnage. Pain ravaged his body, wracking him with sharp spasms of agony. Sephiroth hadn't known that death would hurt so badly, especially when he was so unaccustomed to physical pain outside of the lab.

Sephiroth was dimly aware of Zack's hands pressing down on his wound, of his own blood, seeping hot and persistent between the man's fingers. His vision zeroed in on two violet stars, gleaming like a hope and a dream on the horizon, stars laden with aching sorrow and tinged with fear. Zack's comforting voice filled his ears. "Don't go, Seph, I need you here. Who else is gonna put up with me? Nobody..." Zack trailed off, his attempt at humor lightening Sephiroth's heart more than his own.

Sephiroth reached up, dragging a tender finger across Zack's face, the honest, sensual caress he had never been able to bring himself to share. He smiled, embracing the younger man's face, as darkness slowly possessed him. "I…love you…" He managed to rasp, his voice fading as fast as his sight.

Hot droplets, that Sephiroth vaguely identified as tears anointed his face. "Seph,…don't leave. Please, I…"

Zack shrieked as rough hands seized him, pulling him away from his fallen friend. "Sephiroth!" He screamed. Zack fought against his assailants to no avail. "Seph!" As darkness took him, it occurred to Zack that now Sephiroth would never know what Zack had been about to tell him. The fact that he loved Sephiroth more than life, would, ironically, go with Zack to his grave.

Tbc…


	2. Angel of Pain

Never Lost  
By: Phoenix Dayze

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. Please don't hurt me.

The sting of the whip was more than enough to remind Zack who was in control, and he bit back a growl as blood seeped down his tortured back. He'd stopped fighting them weeks ago, hoping to make his burden a little easier to bear, but since then, they'd taken to beating him for amusement alone. Ever since the Wutai had captured him, Zack had been forced to work as a slave in their war camps, doing anything they deemed necessary for him to do. He could have escaped, probably taken out most of them on the way, but he didn't have the will to return home and see if the nightmare that had been plaguing him this past year was the reality he feared it to be.

He didn't remember much from that day; left most of his memories of it on the battlefield with his comrades, and what he did remember was eerily real, flashes of tormenting truth, haunting in its intensity. _A slice of silver. Green eyes dim with burning pain. Bright, insistent blood that coated his hands like gloves. A slender finger that caressed his cheek. Words too long unuttered. "I love you." A fading friend. Helplessness like nothing he'd ever felt. Harsh, crushing, splintering pain._ Sephiroth was dead. In his heart, Zack knew this, but he refused to admit it to his waking mind. Only in sleep did the truth force itself upon him, when he was weak and weaponless. He didn't sleep much.

Sweat trickled down his back; the myriad of cuts stinging from the salt. He pushed his damp hair from his eyes as he looked to the horizon. Soon it would be nightfall. Soon he would get a reprieve from today, and be tethered back to his post to await tomorrow.

Zack heard the cries before his eyes found the source. A small body lay curled up beneath an onslaught built for giants. The boy's captors were apparently intent on flaying him alive with little more than blunt clubs to aid the process. Zack winced at the suffering he knew the young man must have been enduring. Silently he cursed the Wutai bastard's cruelty. He stood still, compliant, as his master tied him to his post, staring at the boy, who lay bleeding not five feet away. Another victim of war. Another innocent destroyed by this hated land. As he took in the irreparable damage of the boy's back, Zack felt the old hatred boil up, along with the old strength, the old, long-buried urge to control his world and make things be as they should. He tampered it down. With Sephiroth gone, there was nothing else to live for, no reason for more people to die, not even in Wutai.

Slowly, the boy stirred, whimpering as quietly as possible as he tried to maneuver his body into a less painful position. As he turned, Zack could make out the boy's blond hair in the darkness. It was dirty and matted with blood, and hung down over eyes so blue that even the night couldn't hide them. Zack had to swallow back a gasp as he took in the boy's apparent youth. He couldn't have been more than fifteen. Zack shook his head. Far too young to be in a place like this. Far too young for it to already be over.

Wide, innocent eyes caught his gaze and peered up at him through pain-crazed blue. Hope and fear mingled in the boy's visage, a trembling smile playing hide and seek across his tear-streaked face. His voice was little more than a soft coo; so fragile that Zack thought it might break if he listened too hard. "You're a SOLDIER, aren't you?"

Of all the things Zack might have expected this boy to say, this was the last. He stared, his shock evident. Then he nodded solemnly. "I used to be." He said quietly.

The boy seemed to light up a bit at this, and Zack's heart ached at the evidence of such a simple pleasure. This boy really was far too young. "I wanted to be a SOLDIER too." The boy continued. "But now…" He gave Zack a look full of sorrow. "I don't either of us will be SOLDIERs now."

Zack had the overwhelming need to comfort the kid, so he smiled as reassuringly as he could. "Maybe one day you will. You'll get stronger as you grow."

"No." The boy interrupted him. "I'll never grow up." He returned Zack's smile with a mature understanding than no child should have bore on his countenance. "I'm going to die here."

The sheer, matter-of-fact hopelessness in the boy's words hurt Zack in a way he hadn't felt since coming here. Why should this boy have to be so certain of his demise? Where had all the trust and beliefs of youth gone? What suffering had stolen them away? An aching sadness filled the blank void in his chest. Tears pricked at eyes that had gone dry a long time ago. "What's your name, kid?"

"Cloud Strife."

"Well, Cloud Strife," Zack said firmly. "I'm going to get you out of here and see to it that you grow up. And maybe even be a SOLDIER one day."

A small light flamed in Cloud's eyes. "You promise?"

Zack nodded. "I promise."

Tbc…


	3. Angel of Justice

Never Lost  
By: Phoenix Dayze

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. Please don't hurt me.

In the end, once he'd met Cloud, it hadn't taken much to get Zack to break through the bonds that had been holding him. He heard the cries first; a sound that had become something of a homing beacon in the past few weeks, their guards preferring to bully the young blond in the waning light. But today the boy's cries were less of pain and more of terror, of _pleading_. Zack's skin crawled, his hair standing on edge at the primal desperation lining Cloud's short, broken keening. Something wasn't right, and once he'd gotten close enough to see, Zack stopped, frozen on his feet, and he nearly stumbled when his master yanked hard on the rope bound about his hands.

A filthy, broad-set guard was settled forcibly between slim, bruised thighs, rutting with short, greedy thrusts, and whooping to himself as though Cloud were a prize animal he was tormenting with a stick. A thick, disgusted rage flooded through Zack's body, and he felt it rising, the confidence, the pride, all his senses aligning as the identity he'd abandoned snapped back into place.

He didn't feel himself move, wasn't aware of his master struggling in his arms as he choked the life from him with the rope that had been his guide for the past year. Zack stalked up to stand behind the unsuspecting guard still caught up in his damning pleasure, his body radiating smooth skill and honed grace. His fingers laced around the guard's neck. Zack met Cloud's crazed, terrified blue gaze and twisted. The sound of cracking bone almost matched the loud, thrumming beat of his heart.

Kneeling down, Zack gently covered Cloud's exposed body with the remaining rags of his clothing. Reaching out, he picked up the dead guard's sword, hefting it in his hand. He stood up slowly, then looked down at Cloud. "Wait here."

They didn't deserve a quick death, but ultimately, Zack didn't have the time to dispatch of them properly. It was time to keep his promise. When he returned to Cloud's side, he was covered with blood, his chest heaving, his eyes wild. The camp was eerily silent except for their breaths and the soft padding of Zack's footfall. Zack threw the borrowed sword aside with a quiet clang. He knelt without a word, and scooped Cloud into his arms.

Looking at the sky, he pointed them towards the border, and began to walk. Cloud's slim form was practically weightless in his arms, and Zack ached at the harsh treatment the boy had been forced to endure. Zack figured that Cloud had always been small, but had it not been for the terrible turn of chance that brought him into Zack's life, he wouldn't have been so damn fragile. Cloud was so thin, so wraithlike that Zack feared he might blow away, turn to dust in his arms as he carried him to freedom. He looked down at the younger man, who was asleep against his chest, his slender arms locked around his neck. He wouldn't let anyone else hurt Cloud, he promised himself. Cloud was all he had, his sole purpose for living wrapped up in a small, blond-haired boy.

Zack didn't know how long they walked, hours maybe, but the moon was high in the sky when he finally slowed. The forest had seemed to thin around them, breaking back for a small river that slunk, almost unnoticed, through the trees. He carefully set the boy down, reclining him against a tree at the waterside.

Cloud looked up at him with weary, grateful eyes dulled by pain and bitter betrayal. "Thank you." He whispered.

Zack just smiled as he began slowly, methodically searching Cloud's body for any injuries that might need attention. He moved his fingers in soft patterns, tipping Cloud's chin from side to side, sliding down the small arms, delving beneath the shredded shirt to brush lightly over a bruised chest. Ripping a piece of fabric from Cloud's hem, he dipped it into the river. He brought it back to Cloud's face, tenderly swiping away the grime. "Let's see if we can get you cleaned up a bit, shall we?" He wasn't sure if Cloud would want Zack touching him, but he didn't think Cloud was capable of washing himself, and knew that the man would appreciate being clean. Especially after…

Anger boiled in Zack's blood. He had waited too long to take Cloud away from that place, and Cloud had paid a very high price because of it. Zack had been too caught up in his own grieving to truly care about anything else until it was too late. A flash of silver danced through his head, and a sad smiled curved on his lips. _I couldn't save you, Sephiroth. But I will save Cloud._

Cloud's nod of tentative agreement brought Zack back to the present, and he commenced with slowly, carefully cleaning the dirt, blood, and bad memories from Cloud's skin. The boy's chest was actually less damaged than it appeared once all the grime was washed away. His legs were slightly worse; a lot of attention had been lavished there to keep Cloud from running. He gave Cloud an apologetic smile as he carefully pulled back the remainder of the boy's clothes, needing to see what damage had been done by the bastard pig guard, and to clean away the disgusting essences left behind.

Cloud inhaled a quick gasp of air, nodded his ascent, and settled back against the tree to let Zack do his necessary work. Zack moved with soft reverence, cleaning the boy's thighs, his branded length, down the pale, bruised curves of his ass.

As Zack moved over his skin, Cloud's body started to respond, and Zack's eyes widened slightly. He would have thought that after everything Cloud had been through, after what had just been done to him… But then, Cloud had shown himself to be a simple man, with simple beliefs, and with the life they'd led in the recent past, perhaps Zack's kindness and gentle hands were more than enough to stir soft swirls of pleasure in Cloud's abused body.

Zack bit back a ragged gasp at the answering throb of arousal that assaulted him. He wasn't quite as dead inside as he'd believed. And the sight of this beautiful, albeit battered man lying beneath him, responding to his touch, lit dark fires of suggestion in Zack's body--too tempting reminders of pleasure he hadn't felt in far too long. He looked up at Cloud with eyes dilated by the sudden possessive lust that had come over him, lips slick and wet.

There was a slim furrow between Cloud's brows and when he opened his eyes to meet Zack gaze, the stunning blue of his eyes was nearly lost in a cosmos of inky black. "Zack, I…" His voice was rough, tinged with desperate truth. "I'm going to feel this pain in my body regardless. Please…" He gave a minute thrust of his hips, just enough to bring his half-hard member into contact with Zack's hand, which was still hovering over him. Zack exhaled sharply. "Please," Cloud said again. "I've never known pleasure." He stared deep into Zack's violet eyes, sending his plea spiraling into the raw desire he saw there. "Zack," he whispered, "make love to me."

Tbc…


	4. Angel of Hope

Never Lost  
By: Phoenix Dayze

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. Please don't hurt me.

_Make love to me_.

The words echoed in Zack's head, a beautiful, intoxicating litany that brought with it a burgeoning sense of power. Power to control his destiny, to control his body, to be the end all and be all of his world, which could now be as he made it.

_Make love to me_.

Zack cleared his throat as his body hummed with intense need. "Cloud…" He reached out a shaky hand to caress away the strands of blond hair that brushed over the man's eyes. "Not here." He whispered hoarsely. "Not now."

Cloud grabbed fast to Zack's hand, clinging to it tightly. Tears slipped down his gaunt cheeks. "Please!" Cloud begged. "I know you want me! You can erase what he did to me! Make me forget!"

It was too simple. By giving into his lust, Zack could supplant Cloud's tarnished memories of sex by replacing them with memories of himself, but only if he seized the chance now, while the memories were fresh, while Cloud's mind and body were still in a state of shock and denial. Cloud probably didn't really know what he was asking, simply reacting by instinct, but he was right. He _could_ fix this, at least partially.

Zack tugged Cloud's hand up to his mouth, kissing it lightly. "Okay, Cloud." He soothed. "Okay." He crawled upwards over Cloud's body, covering it with his own, and gently brought their mouths together. Cloud's lips parted instantly with an almost eager whimper, and Zack accepted his invitation, sliding his tongue into the untasted warmth of the boy's mouth. Cloud's moan grew and his hands pawed at Zack's back, his body arching and wriggling in nervous, desperate need.

Zack pulled back, shoving Cloud's arms away from him as he struggled out of his clothes, casting them aside. He fell back atop the younger man as Cloud yanked him back down with a strength he shouldn't have had, given his condition. Zack let out an animalistic cry as their bodies slid together, the heat and feral sensation of bare skin tantalizing and almost more than he could bear. He sank easily between Cloud's thighs as the man wrapped his battered legs around Zack's waist, pulling him closer, tighter, bringing dangerous parts of Zack's anatomy into contact too intimate for a boy Cloud's age. Except, someone had already stolen the bloom of Cloud's innocence, and he was counting on Zack to keep the fragile flower from wilting and crumbling to dust.

Zack wrapped his arms around Cloud's shoulders, letting his hands scoop the man up by his back, pulling him as close as possible, holding Cloud tight as he slowly, gently rocked into his struggling body. Cloud cried out against him, his nails biting deep into Zack's flesh, but Zack continued moving, a steady, easy rhythm, kissing over Cloud's face and neck, not giving the boy time to think, trying to fan the tiny flames of pleasure in his body.

They moved together, their bodies sliding against one another in age-old patterns, the blood from the dead Wutai on Zack's body smeared and slick between them. As Zack felt himself getting close, he shifted back from Cloud's body enough to look the boy in the eyes. He slid one hand from Cloud's back, around his body to wrap strong fingers around Cloud's length. He stared into depthless, searching blue. "Can you feel me, Cloud?" He whispered huskily. "I'm right here. You're safe now."

Cloud nodded shakily, his body tightening, tensing, twitching as Zack's careful ministrations slowly took him apart. He shuddered violently, spasming in Zack's arms as a mind-numbing release washed over him. His tears soaked into Zack's shoulder as Zack's breaths grew heavy and his sex pulsed and throbbed within him. Zack came with a raspy groan, spilling himself into Cloud's body.

They held each other, their chests heaving together as their bodies cooled. Zack stroked Cloud's hair lovingly, whispering mindless comforts into his ear. After a while, he shifted, rolling onto his side and pulling Cloud with him, curling the young man around him. He traced a lazy pattern along Cloud's shoulder, and swallowed, his guilt at what he'd taken swirling with the euphoric peace that Cloud had given him. Reaching over his chest, he tipped Cloud's head up to meet his eyes. "Why did you do it?" He asked lowly. "Why did you give yourself to me?"

Cloud's eyes were clear and steady, and his jaw was set in a stubborn line, but a ghost of a smile teased at his mouth. "Because I knew I could trust you." Cloud answered truthfully.

Zack sighed, a rough form of relief washing over him.

"And because he told me to."

Cloud's voice took on a strange quality and Zack's blood chilled in his veins. He peered down at the younger man, uncertainty edging along his mind. "Who did?" He asked, dread lining his tone.

"The angel." Cloud whispered. "The angel with the silver hair."

Tbc…


	5. Angel of Truth

Never Lost  
By: Phoenix Dayze

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. Please don't hurt me.

Zack teetered precariously on the edge of insanity. Cloud had spoken of an angel. An angel with silver hair. Zack had questioned him further, but Cloud had said no more, simply smiling a peaceful, knowing smile and drifting into a quiet slumber, still cradled in Zack's arms. Their conversation echoed in his head, words he could never banish.

It was nothing more than a child's dream, a foolish belief, something that Cloud had manifested in his time of need, clinging to it to give himself the surety, the confidence that he craved. That was what Zack told himself. But with silver hair? There was no explanation that Zack could come up with as to why Cloud's imagined angel would have silver hair, a trait unique to only one man…

Sephiroth. He was the gleaming demon that taunted Zack's soul, his beautiful savior, his one, unforgivable mistake. He crept stealthily through Zack's thoughts, hiding in the shadows of everything that Zack longed to forget. He was always there, swirling in the darkness of his mind, a living vision behind his eyes. The friend he'd cherished, the man he'd loved, the General he'd failed to save.

These were the things that haunted him now and always, the thrice-damning failure a burden that he would never shake. Only his dedication to Cloud, his fervent promise to the young man, gave him direction, kept him from slipping into the abyss. But everything had changed. He had allowed his own physical needs, coupled with Cloud's desperate pleas to muddle his mind, and he had taken from Cloud. It had been sweet and perfect, and oh so good, and Cloud had shown no signs of regret in days since, often crawling into Zack's bed at the inn where they slept and curling around his side, stroking him until Zack's common sense failed him and his body took over. And then Zack would condemn himself deeper and deeper into hell as he loved Cloud into the night, taking himself to the edge and back on Cloud's vibrant pleasure.

It was a dream life, and Zack moved through it in a blur of numbness. The death he had taken into himself when he was a prisoner of war returned, only the pain was different, springing from deep within himself, and this time there was no reprieve.

Zack often caught himself dreaming, his mind alive with visions of a young, fresh-faced youth that he didn't recognize. A boy who stood proud and smiled generously, a man who teased the General and fought with grace and flare, a warrior who defended his country, who might have saved the world. Zack embraced and despised these dreams; waking with a bevy of silent tears, and a heart full of slicing, silver agony.

It was times like those that Zack wished he too had an angel, an ethereal dream made real be his own desperate need to banish his demons by a glorified presence alone. It seemed to be a valid cure; Cloud moved about now, his body healed, whistling softly to himself during the day, seeming almost as if the terrors he'd undergone had never happened. And at night, he would come to Zack, asking to be held, his large blue eyes irresistible in their innocence.

But no angel ever appeared to Zack, only the gleaming silver sins of his past. Soon Zack began to hate himself, his weakness, his failure, his selfishness that kept him warming Cloud's bed, the confident pride that Sephiroth had admired in him so long ago chipping away to leave behind a reclusive, insecure mass of sorrow and regret.

Zack jumped, startled out of his musings as Cloud stumbled in, a weary sigh on his lips. He smiled when he saw Zack, moving over to him as he stripped off his mud-streaked shirt. He laid a light hand on Zack's shoulder, massaging gently with his thumb. "You're tense." He muttered softly. "Want me to fix that for you?"

Cloud's voice was a throaty purr, and it brushed over Zack like a cool breeze, making him shiver in response. Zack turned his head, placing a chaste kiss against Cloud's lips. "Not tonight." He whispered. But Cloud was already moving, his hands sliding over Zack's body, pushing him back to sit on the edge of the bed, his mouth dragging over Zack's bare chest with hot, teasing kisses. Moving down, lower and lower, his small hands working the buckle of Zack's belt easily. Heat curled in Zack's belly, a betraying, needy coil of lust that Zack knew would be darkly satisfied.

Zack thrust up into a hot, moist mouth, a sharp cry on his lips. It was heady, maddening suction, intoxicating pressure, and he moved as his body dictated, letting his urgent need for the sanctuary of sexual distraction drive him up and over the edge he'd been so recklessly, uneasily standing on.

There was a silver flash, a gleam of familiar light, and Zack's eyes flew open, his gaze widening with awed incredulity. A man stood before him, tall and lean. His hair was cut, short and jagged above his shoulders. His face was gaunt, drawn, pale, and smeared with dirt, eyes sunk into the hollows over his sharp cheekbones. Dark shadows lined the staring eyes, whose glittering, infallible green was the only bright thing about the man's entire being. The man's clothes hung ragged and loose off of the too thin frame, and one shaky hand reached out to Zack with clearly defined purpose. Only, this was no angel. This was…

Zack's heart thudded painfully in his chest, and his voice was little more than a broken whisper as he choked out a single, impossible word. "Sephiroth…"

tbc...


	6. Angel of Sacrifice

Never Lost  
By: Phoenix Dayze 

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. Please don't hurt me.

Sephiroth stared, his eyes a terrible proof, a single, glistening tear on his cheek. He moved towards Zack, his body a smooth gleam in the darkness. He paused behind Cloud, his eyes darting down to the blond's head, still occupied in Zack's lap, then up at Zack, meeting the violet gaze with a tremulous smile. "Well, Lieutenant, I see I haven't been too sorely missed." Sephiroth's silken voice flowed around Zack, smothering him with the weight of its intent.

Zack gaped, his mouth moving silently. He licked his lips, his head shaking. "Sephiroth…General…I…"

Sephiroth chuckled wryly. "Do not trouble yourself, Fair. I only jest." Reaching down, he placed a gentle hand on the back of Cloud's head. "Cease now, young one."

Cloud pulled back with a nod, moving to curl around Zack's feet, his blond head resting on Zack's thigh as he peered up at Sephiroth with a dreamy smile on his face. 

Zack's hands fumbled at the fastenings of his pants. This was impossible! He was dreaming again! Or he'd died. _Sephiroth can't be here_. He thought. _Sephiroth is dead. I let him die…_

"No." Sephiroth replied, answering Zack's unspoken rant. "I survived that day on the field when you were taken. I stayed conscious just long enough to see you gone. I woke up hours later in a camp which, I imagine, was a lot like yours. I slowly healed and spent the next ten months in slavery, much as you did." He twirled a strand of his hacked off hair between two thin fingers. "I fear they may have butchered me."

Zack's mind reeled. Sephiroth hadn't died! All that time, while he was being beaten and forced to yield, Sephiroth had been alive. It was difficult to process. Zack stared up him, pain shining in his eyes. Pain for giving up so easily, pain for allowing himself to be hurt because of his grief, pain for turning his back on all the qualities that made him who he was, the things that Sephiroth had loved about him, pain for the spectacular failure he'd become. His hand reached up hesitantly to trace lightly over Sephiroth's chest, and was horrified when his hand passed through what should have been solid flesh.

Sephiroth let out a small, aggravated huff. "You'll have to forgive me, Zackary, for not being what I once was. I'm afraid that slavery didn't agree with me."

Zack shook his head, confusion scraping his already raw nerves. "I thought you said you survived?" He forced out.

"I did." Sephiroth assured him. "That day. But not forever." He glanced down at Cloud who was still watching him, silent and still. "Do you remember the day you met Cloud?" Sephiroth asked Zack, purpose simmering in his eyes.

Zack nodded. "He was crying…"

"That was the day I died." Sephiroth said. He reached down again and put a friendly hand in Cloud's hair, ruffling it lightly, and the boy grinned in response. "I sent him to you." Sephiroth went on.

"What do you mean?" Zack's throat was tight, and his words were hard in coming. "What do you mean _you_ sent him?"

"He is my vessel." Sephiroth explained. "We share a genetic connection, and as such, he is my tie to this world. That is why I sent him to you, so that I could find you again." He gave Cloud an irrepressible look of pride. "Isn't that right, my little dove?"

Cloud caught the General's hand in his own, leaned forward, and kissed the now-callused fingertips. "Yes, my lord. You did it to find him." Cloud turned his head and gave Zack an adoring smile that reminded Zack of a toddler worshiping an older sibling, complete trust and utter devotion in his eyes.

Sephiroth nodded and turned back to Zack. "Once I found my way, it wasn't hard for him to see me. I encouraged him, and asked him a favor."

"You asked him to sleep with me!" Zack interjected. "How could you do that? Didn't you know what he'd been through?"

"Yes." Sephiroth admitted. "But I needed that closeness to bind myself to you, to make myself strong enough, to be _here_." He threw his arms out as if to make a point. "And besides, I don't think he's any worse for the wear. Are you, my pet?" He stroked Cloud behind his ear, and Cloud blushed, turning his face back into Zack's knee.

Zack leaned forward a bit and put a protective hand on Cloud's shoulder. "You shouldn't have toyed with his life, Sephiroth." Zack said firmly. "It wasn't yours to destroy. He's a person! He had hopes and dreams…"

"And a destiny." Sephiroth interrupted him. "Just like the rest of us." Sephiroth stepped closer, his thighs brushing against Zack's knees. "My destiny is to change the world." He sank his hands into Zack's hair, a cool breeze of insubstantial flesh. "Yours is to change me. And Cloud's…" A sad smile curved Sephiroth's lips into a seductive twist. "Cloud's destiny is to give you a choice."

Zack swallowed. "What choice?"

"To accept your destiny." Sephiroth stated. "And mine. Or to keep things as they are, and let me, and the man you are with me, fall by the wayside."

"I don't understand." Zack whispered. "What does any of this have to do with Cloud?"

Sephiroth ghosted a hand over Zack's face, leaving a chill in its wake. "I can live again." He taunted. "Become solid and real. But I cannot do it without Cloud's sacrifice."

Zack paled. "What sacrifice?"

"I'd have to absorb him," Sephiroth confessed, "take his body into my own, and adapt his living tissue in order to become corporeal once more."

Zack shook his head, defiance and disbelief on his lips. "So Cloud would have to…"

"Yes." Cloud breathed. "I'd have to die."

Tbc…


	7. Angel of Sorrow

Never Lost  
By: Phoenix Dayze 

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. Please don't hurt me.

"No!" Zack shouted, jumping up from his place on the bed and pacing across the room. "You can't do that! You can't ask me to take his life! I have no right to it! And even if I did…" He trailed off, misery and abject refusal lining his face. "I can't, Seph!" A tear slithered down his cheek. "I love you, and I'd give anything in this world to have you back, but…" he paused helplessly. "Cloud, I…"

Cloud rose from his spot on the floor and walked over to stand next to Zack. He put a light hand on his arm. "I don't mind." He said lowly. "I never felt I belonged in this world anyway."

Zack tried to shrug away from his touch, to ignore the words planting themselves in his soul, dark seeds of suggestion, but Sephiroth was there, his ethereal presence crowding Zack, his pale hands tilting Zack's head back by sheer will.

"But we could be together." Sephiroth spoke into his ear. "You and I, we could finally be one." Sephiroth's mouth hovered over Zack's lips, a cold, inviting brush of torment that Zack longed to taste. It caressed over his skin, taunting, teasing, a beautiful, awful craving that would never be quenched unless Zack did the unthinkable.

Hot tears leaked from Zack's eyes, as he tried, instinctively, to draw closer to Sephiroth, and melted into an icy chill of foggy colors. His heart ached and yearned, and everything he wanted, the man he _needed_, was so close, so almost within his grasp. All he had to do was sacrifice one young boy, send him to death and nothingness, a boy was standing there _asking_ him to do it.

And Zack knew that he would. He couldn't live without Sephiroth, didn't want to, had been dead inside since they'd been apart. But even so, the choice he was making was not an easy one. Cloud had become his friend over the past few months, had given him a purpose, a reason to live, something to look forward to. And Zack had promised to help him. They had suffered side by side, had escaped slavery together. They had shared a bed, Cloud offering himself willingly, giving Zack the outlet he needed, allowing Zack to feel love and passion and pleasure, when all Zack had known was pain and despair. Giving Cloud up meant more than just stealing away the boy's life; it meant never seeing him again.

Zack groped blindly for the blond man standing so tantalizingly near, his arm locking around his small frame, and Cloud melted into his embrace, his slender arms wrapping around Zack's broad back, fingers digging tightly into his skin. Zack poured his tears, his heartache and his grief, into Cloud's shoulder, holding the man close, clinging to him, never wanting to let go, but knowing that forever was near at hand. "I'm sorry." He sobbed. "I'm so sorry!"

Cloud took Zack's face in his hands and stared into his eyes, violets pools of agony. He smiled softly, a tender wisp of knowing. "Don't worry." He whispered. "I'll be fine." He gave Zack a gentle, hungry kiss, a solid farewell. Then he turned to Sephiroth and nodded. "I'm ready."

Sephiroth pulled Cloud to him, wrapping the small man in his larger embrace. Cloud stared up at him trustingly. Slowly, Sephiroth lowered his mouth to Cloud's, their lips sealing in a flash of gleaming silver. Tiny, glittering lights rained over them, pulsing and swirling as they sucked away the color from Cloud's body, which slowly dissolved, fading away as the General kissed him into oblivion.

As Cloud disappeared, Sephiroth began to change. His body filled out, the old muscle returning, his skin gaining a smooth, healthy sheen. The tortured lines of his face eased, the flawless beauty emerging from behind the mask of death. The dull ambiance of his hair reversed with a blinding gleam, the dazzling silver luster revived to its former glory. Only the length remained unchanged, a token reminded of what had passed.

Reality snapped into place all at once, knocking Zack off his feet, to fall, sprawling to the floor. When he looked back, Cloud was gone, and Sephiroth, the silver General, the man he had believed to be lost to him forever, stood proud and regal before him, real as the night around them.

Sephiroth stared at himself, an expression of wonder on his finely crafted features. After a moment, he looked over at Zack, who was still prone with disbelief. He held out his arms with a peculiar gleam of hope lurking in the indelible green. "Well, Zackary," he asked, "what do you think?"

Zack blinked, then a wide grin began to possess his face. "Seph…" he said incredibly, "you're back!"

The End.


End file.
